


Chaos is a friend of mine

by Excuseyouclarke



Series: Chaos in love, Chaos in family [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Meeting the Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:13:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26933413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Excuseyouclarke/pseuds/Excuseyouclarke
Summary: Falling in love was never apart of Roans plan. All he wanted in life was to prove to his mother that he wasn’t a failure. But somehow, Clarke changed that. Now they’re engaged and having to do the one thing they both dreaded most of all - meeting each other’s parents.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Roan
Series: Chaos in love, Chaos in family [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1990633
Comments: 10
Kudos: 47
Collections: The t100 Writers for BLM Initiative





	Chaos is a friend of mine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MrsHouseWife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsHouseWife/gifts).



> This work is a part of the t100 fics for BLM, kindly donated by The lovely Mrshousewife!

The New York City skyline twinkles below him, Roan pours himself three fingers of whiskey, not to quell his nerves – he doesn’t get nervous. He’s one of the youngest partners in a New York law firm, he’s overcome barriers and worked himself up from the failure his mother made himself believe he was.

He’s not nervous. He doesn’t get nervous.

Except for the day Clarke text him back after he rear-ended her car then awkwardly asked her out for a drink so he could pay her back.

He’d struck gold with her. After being disowned by his mother and left with nothing, he had two goals in life, to make it, and to prove his mother wrong. He’d worked his ass off in College and got into the best Law school, worked his way up in his firm - working all hours, sleeping in his office and living off take out for the first three years of this career.

Falling in love was never a part of that plan, especially not with his mothers political rival’s daughter. But life’s funny like that. He’d thought he could handle anything life threw at him, but Clarke Griffin had turned his life upside down in the best possible way. Suddenly his life wasn’t just work, there was a light there, one that showed him there was more to life than just proving his mother wrong.

An arm wraps around his waist from behind and a head rests on his back. It warms him more than the whiskey does.

“Ready?” She asks softly from behind him.

He scoffs and downs the rest of his drink. “I’ve been ready for an hour, I was waiting on you.”

She unwinds her arm so he can turn to look at her. She’s wearing a black dress shorter than her conservative mother would approve of, but he assumes that’s deliberate. As are the diamonds dripping from her neck and ears, it takes some attention from the diamond on her finger. Not all of it, though.

“Who are you trying to piss off with that dress?” He asks with a raised brow, she looks down and smirks.

“I’m not _trying_ to piss anyone off, but if anybody’s offended by it then that’s a them problem.”

“Oh I’m not complaining,” he assures her with a sly grin. “Quite the opposite, actually.”

Clarke rolls her eyes at him affectionately “yeah well, save it for when we get back. We’re already pushed for time.”

“Whose fault is that?” He mutters as she slips her heels on. He ties his hair back so his mother doesn’t complain that he looks unkempt and disheveled like she did last time he saw her.

He’s never once been thrown out of court for looking what she considers ‘unprofessional’ so she can take that opinion and –

“Are we getting a cab?” Clarke asks as she touches up her lipstick in the mirror above the fireplace.

“Do you think we can get through the night without alcohol?”

“Cab it is,” she agrees.

In the backseat, she squeezes his hand reassuringly as the city passes in a blur. He squeezes her hand back and rubs his thumb over her knuckles. Her hand looks tiny and dainty in his, the white gold halo engagement ring on her finger sparkles in the dim city light.

The engagement wasn’t a preplanned thing, he hadn’t spent a copious amount of time mulling it over.

One night, after she’d done a sixteen hour shift at the hospital and he’d practically lived at the office during a particularly gruelling case, she’d ordered them both takeout and told him they were both taking the night off to de-stress.

Neither of them were overly affectionate, both were raised with parents who worked far too much and paid too little attention to them. It showed it later in life, when both of them thought they were incapable of having a meaningful relationship. They never outright said _I love you,_ it wasn’t in their nature. But that night, sat in front of the fire with PadThai watching the world go by underneath them, for the first time he’d felt at peace.

That was the moment he’d realised there wasn’t another person on this earth he’d rather spend his life with. He proposed in that very spot two days later, stomach in knots on one knee wondering if he was being hasty. They’d only been together two years, living together for 6 months but it felt right.

He’s never been happier than when she said yes, and in that moment he realised he’d probably never really been happy before. Not like this.

Now they were doing the one thing both had dreaded – meeting each other’s parents. Mothers, to be exact. Their mothers who hate each other – and aren’t particularly fond of their children, either.

“Tell me again why we decided having our mothers at the same table was a good idea?” He mutters, dread for the evening once again settling over him.

Clarke sighs and rests her head back against the seat, looking over to him. “Because they’ll have to be together at the wedding, it’s better they work out any kinks here.”

Roan raises an eyebrow at her doubtfully, “Do you think they can work out all their issues in one night?”

“No,” Clarke laughs “hell no. But they can at least get the worst of it out. Better they do it now than at the wedding. At least they’re in a public place, they’ve got an image to uphold.”

They’re getting closer to the restaurant now, it’s a high class and ridiculously expensive place, strategically planned so nobody can cause a scene.

Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but it’s the best hope they’ve got right now.

Clarke groans when they pull up, both of their mothers are already there, in a heated discussion with Clarkes step father, Kane standing diplomatically between them. “Here goes” she mutters.

Roan gets out he cab first, walking around to open the door for her and helping her out, kissing her ring finger before turning to what he’s sure will be a night of hell.

“Hello” Clarke smiles brightly, though it’s strained. “We’re so happy you all could come.”

The three turn to look at them, whatever discussion they were having abandoned. Roan is used to being scrutinised, by other lawyers, jurors and judges, but this feels entirely different. He’s sure Abby is sizing him up, not in a good way either. She’s looking at him in disbelief, like her precious daughter chose _him_ of all people.

The look Clarke’s getting off his mother isn’t any better though, she looks like at her in blatant disgust.

“I thought we were coming out to dinner, not walking the streets” Abby breaks the tense silence, looking over Clarkes dress.

“It comes down to my knees it’s not that short, mother.” Clarke mutters, Roan squeezes her hand.

Introductions are awkward, Abby barely nods at him, but Kane at least looks somewhat apologetic as he shakes his hand. His mothers knuckles turn white when she shakes Clarkes hand, neither flinch as they make eye contact.

Kane breaks the moment by ushering them into the restaurant, the waitress – obviously used to tense situations by now – doesn’t flinch at the open air of hostility.

He’s been in much more unfavourable situations, he’s looked murderers in the eye without flinching, yet he’s never felt as tense as he is sat around a table with their parents glaring dagger at each other – and them.

“How about some champagne, for the table” Kane suggests “It _is_ a celebration, after all”

“Make it six” Clarke smiles as she fixes the napkin in her lap.

They make it two, but that’s because neither Abby nor Nia will be seen to be outdone by the other. Clarke’s pouring herself a second glass when Abby fixes her with a critical stare.

“You’re having _another_?”

Clarke shrugs, taking a sip “We got a cab here, it’s not like I’ll be driving home over the limit.”

There’s an awkward silence around the table – well, more awkward than it was before. “Do you think it’s a good idea, having another glass of champagne, considering…”

Roan doesn’t see what the big deal is, unless she means how expensive it is, but that’s never seemed to bother her before. So he doesn’t understand when Clarke stiffens next to him.

“Oh for gods sake” she mutters, “I’m not pregnant, mother.”

He has to restrain from spitting out the champagne he’s just drank.

“You’re not?” Nia asks, with genuine confusion. When did they all come to that conclusion?

“No, of course not. Why would you think that?”

“Well,” Abby gestures between them “with how hasty the engagement was”

“It was hasty” Nia agrees.

So now they agree on something.

“It was not hasty,” Clarke snaps, even in the dull lighting of the restaurant he can see the angry flush rising up her neck. “We’ve been together for two years.”

“Well considering Roan didn’t even ask for our permission before proposing” Abby starts, raising her eyebrows at him.

Roan blanches. In all honesty, he hadn’t even thought of asking for her permission, the only opinion he cared about with the engagement was Clarkes.

“Permission?” Clarke spits before Roan can have his say. “Why did he need permission? I’m not an object to be traded. You’re not getting a goat in exchange for me getting married, what do my life decisions have to do with you?”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Clarke” Abby rolls her eyes “I was just saying, it might have been nice to have warning.”

“Look,” Roan sighs “I’m sorry I didn’t ask for your _blessing,_ but with all due respect the only opinion that mattered at that time was Clarkes. She’s who I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

“It was hasty,” Nia glares “and poorly planned. I don’t understand why you’re trying to hide it still.”

Clarke gives him a pleading look, he’s not sure what he can do about it, though.

“There’s no shame in having a baby out of wedlock,” Abby continues, Clarke splutters incredulously. “All the kids are doing it these days. It will probably just save on the divorces fees later on.”

“I have to disagree” Nia interjects “Children should have families, a solid home base and both maternal and parental figures, but your policies don’t seem to care how – ”

“Oh you want to talk about policies?” Scoffs Abby sceptically “How about the children you’d happily leave – ”

“Stop.” Roan snaps. Louder than is probably acceptable for the setting, but he doesn’t care “No more politics talk, no more speculations, nobody’s pregnant, nobody’s having a shotgun wedding. We’re getting married because we love each other and you will respect that.”

There’s a muttered acknowledgement, and nobody outright disagrees with him so he continues to glare at his menu. Clarke squeezes his hand in thanks and he squeezes back. Maybe now they’ve got that little spat out the way they can have a semi-awkward meal and not see each other until the wedding.

The waitress comes to take their order, looking around a little awkwardly at atmosphere at the table. At least she can leave when she’s took their order, he has to stay here.

“Steak, Rare” he mutters, passing the menu back to the waitress a little too forcefully.

“Roan” Clarke warns, nudging him with her foot under the table.

“Sorry, I’ll have the steak – _please_ – cooked rare. Thank you.”

Clarke smiles into her menu, “I’ll have the venison, thank you”

The rest of the table orders and Nia tuts at him.

“I see you’re still an oaf. Just like your father.”

“So much for having a strong paternal figure” Abby mutters, sipping her champagne. _Here we go_ , he thinks, another argument brewing.

“Mother” Clarke all but growls in warning, putting a stop to whatever heated discussion was about to go ahead.

He’s glad the conversation doesn’t go any further. He can’t stand to hear his mother talk about his father like that. Not after watching her tear him down every day of is miserable existence until he’d finally given up the ghost. When the news he’d died had come, his mother had barely flinched, just kept on with her steely gaze and carried on like nothing had happened.

That was when he’d decided he wanted nothing more to do with her world. He was barely eighteen, and just months from going to college when she’d kicked him out – but he’d made it. Despite her trying to tear him down he’d made it.

They reconciled when Nia realised she needed a family to make her look more approachable, what was better than her successful, fatherless son?

He’d accepted, only to show his mother that he was successful without her, but it backfired, she didn’t care about him either way, he was always just a token piece to her. Since then their relationship was strained at best, only seeing each other when she deemed it necessary, and apparently him getting engaged was a necessity.

“So, wedding talk” Abby says in faux excitement. Clarke gives him an exasperated look, this is what she’d been dreading most of all. They both know full well that getting their mothers to not takeover the wedding planning was going to be a battle. “What kind of timescale are we looking at?”

“18 months,” Clarke smiles tightly “We were thinking a July or August wedding”

“Mexico is lovely that time of year” Abby muses.

“It’s hurricane season” Clarke mutters, hand tightening around his.

It was going to prove difficult, their mothers were distant at best, yet both of them knew they had too much of an image to uphold for their wedding to be a disaster. This was their PR dream.

“The Maldives is a lovely wedding destination” Nia points out.

“It’s monsoon season. Look, we don’t have any plans to go abroad to get married, we were thinking the botanical gardens, actually.”

Abby curls up her lips in disdain “The botanical gardens? Like where they keep the plants?”

“I suppose,” Clarke frowns “that’s one way of looking at it.”

“To be fair, the plants can’t exactly leave” Roan reasons, knowing it will make her smile. His hearts a little lighter when she ducks her head and hides her laugh as a dainty cough.

“I think it’s a lovely choice,” Kane smiles, ever the diplomat. Roan supposes he should be grateful.

“You’re not getting married in a Greenhouse” Nia scoffs.

“I don’t think we have the actual ceremony in the Greenhouse” Clarke frowns, “but it might be pretty for the pictures.”

Clarke pointedly ignores the glare being sent her way, but it makes Roan smile anyway. They manage to get through the dinner without any major incidents, though it was hard for anything to go wrong when nobody was speaking. Despite the awkwardness, Roan thinks that if they can get through the rest of the night like this, it just _might_ be a success.

But of course, things never really go his way – not when his mothers involved, anyway.

“So Clarke, what are your aspirations?” Nia asks condescendingly, Roan has to grip his steak knife a little tighter to stop it from _accidentally_ slipping from his hand towards his mother.

“I’m a doctor,’ Clarke blinks, confused by the question. He’s not, he knows exactly where this is going, and it’s not going to end well. “Those were my aspirations, I just want to help people.”

“Help people” Nia jeers with a roll of her eyes. “All you doctors say the same thing, don’t think you’re fooling anybody.”

“Fooling how? What else am I doing the job for? The fun 16 hour shifts, or maybe the bodily fluid that gets all over me several times a day.”

“Do Gooders, that’s what you are. You do it for the validation and the money, not because you’re a good person.”

“Don’t you dare,” Abby snaps before Clarke can respond – which was probably a good job. “Don’t you dare say my daughter is not a good person, you’ve known her for one hour you do not have the right to say what kind of person she is.”

Clarke blinks in surprise and whispers “Did you know my mother thinks I’m a good person?”

He snorts and nudges her. As serious as she can be most of the time, she still never fails to make him smile. Even in the worst of situations, she’s there, soon they’ll have to do this again, be together with al their friends and family with a knot in their stomach but as long as he’s got her, he knows it will be alright.

“So Roan” Kane artfully interjects “Abby tells me you recently made partner at your law firm, that’s a massive achievement, congratulations.”

Roan manages a tight smile “Thank you, hard work and determination pays off.”

“That it does,” Kane agrees with a smile, then turns to Nia “you must be very proud.”

Theres an icy silence, he know that his mother is in fact, not proud of his achievements. He was purposely shunned until he fit her agenda again. There’s a part of him that he hates that’s disappointed she can’t see how well he’s done just because he’s not some great political leader tucked into his mothers pocket.

“Anybody can become a lawyer,” she sniffs with her lip curled up in disdain. “If only he’d applied his so-called dedication to doing something useful and productive with his life. I should have guessed he was never cut out for politics, he’s weak like his father.”

“You know what,” Clarke snaps, her fork hitting the plate with a clang, making the rest of the table look over at her outburst.

“Clarke” he warns, low and subtle – he knows he’s hears, but she’s ignoring him. The last they need of tonight is Clarke making a scene in his honour.

“No, it needs to be said. There’s no great achievement in being a politician who only looks after herself. What makes that any different from the jobs we do? At least we’re out there making a difference to people. All you do is tear people down and I’m not sitting here listening to it anymore. You have a son who is hard working and dedicated and who actually helps people. If you bothered to sit and listen to what he does for five minutes you’d see what an amazing person he is and all the pro bono work he does, the passion he has for his job and the people he helps. If you can’t see that then you’re the disappointment, not him.”

He squeezes Clarkes hand, it’s not very often they speak of their feelings like this, they most definitely wouldn’t sit down and have this kind of conversation, but somehow they always knew. Actions always spoke louder than words with them, and this time – it’s both.

Even if his mother does look like she’s ready to strangle Clarke.

The silence is finally broken by a nervous waitress asking “Would anybody like to see the desert menu?”

 _That_ was the wrong moment to snort out a laugh. The waitress scurries away with a glare from his mother and now the tables at an impasse. Nobody dares to speak first, Clarkes glaring at Nia, Nia’s glaring back, Abby’s glaring between Nia and Clarke, and Kane seems to be finding a piece of loose thread on the table incredibly interesting.

“Well, this has been lovely,” Roan mutters “but I think it’s time for the bill.”

“Agreed.” Says his mother tight lipped. That’s a first. “I’ll get it.”

“Actually,” Abby drawls “I’ll get it. It is traditional that the brides family pays, after all”

“We’ll get it” Clarke smiles tightly, “I don’t think there’s any traditions about picking up the bill at a restaurant.”

“Yes but for the wedding…”

“We’re getting it.” Roan pulls his card out and places it on the table, giving out a challenging stare. They weren’t looking for handouts, and they certainly were not accepting money off their mothers. They were doing this on their own, their wedding, their day.

He’s relieved when they make their way outside, the nights bitter and clouds hang heavy in the night sky. He puts an arm around Clarke to keep her warm and kisses her hair. They made it through the night with little casualty’s.

“We must do this again sometime” Abby smiles, “next it will be dress shopping and cake tasting.”

He feels Clarke stiffen under his arm. “You want to do all that stuff?”

“Absolutely, you’re my only child of course I want to do it all.”

“Oh fantastic.”

“Of course we’ll all be involved” his mother says stiffly, “It’s a happy occasion.”

“Is it?” Roan asks sceptically.

“Why haven’t you hailed a cab yet?” Clarke snaps under her breath.

“Right.” He mutters, and sticks his hand out. A cab pulls over and he hears Clarke sigh in relief. “Well, it’s been…a night.”

“Yes,” Clarke agrees “it’s definitely been a night.”

“We’ll do it again soon” Abby promises.

“Yes, soon.” Nia concedes, “After all, we’re all going to be family now.”

“Okay bye.” Clarke waves, “Get in the cab now.”

“Yep” he opens the cab door for her before his mother can make a comment about not having a driver. They seems to both deflate on the backseat. “Well, that could have gone worse.”

“How?”

He pauses, “Somebody could have died.”

She snorts, then laughs “Oh god, your mother said we’re family now.”

“We’re not.” He assures her, “She’s just going to use us a pawn.”

She rests her head on his shoulder. “We made it through though.”

“We did.” And they’d continue making it through, no matter happens, no matter obstacles are thrown their way, they’re used to a little chaos. As long he’s got her, chaos is nothing but a word. 

**Author's Note:**

> I am accepting prompts on Tumblr (excuseyouclarke) as part of t100fic-for-BLM. Please please check out the fantastic writers we have and the amazing works that have already been published - all for an amazing cause!


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